Not Crazy
by adelaidybug
Summary: Claudia starts behaving strangely, forcing the team to question how much they know about the girl, and how deeply affected she is by her past.
1. Chapter 1

**I kind of hate myself for writing this because its so... yeah. But anway...**

**I don't own Warehouse 13 or any of its characters and am not making money from this story.**

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_No. I can't do this now. I have to act like everything's okay. They can't know._

Claudia was sitting on the floor in an aisle of the warehouse, trying to rally herself; trying to be normal; trying to hide how she was feeling. But when Steve walked up on her unannounced, she wasn't sure she continue holding herself together.

"Claude, why are you on the floor?"

"What? Oh... uh, no reason. I was just.. uh... sitting! Sitting is important, you know. I think everyone should sit more. You know?" She mentally kicked herself.

"Okay... So what's up?"

"Nothing! I'm fine, Jinksy." She was fiercely clutching onto the last bits of lucidity quickly slipping out of the terrifying wilderness of her brain.

"No you're not."

"Yes I am!" She could feel her rational thought fading fast, and got up from the ground, knowing she shouldn't be around all these artifacts in this state of mind.

He pointed at himself and said, "Human lie detector," then pointed at her, saying, "girl who is not fine."

"Please... please just drop it," Claudia said, voice wavering, as she began walking away.

Now Steve was _definitely _not leaving her alone, and followed her, asking, "Claudia, what is it?"

"Please, just leave me alone," she whimpered, breaking into a sprint.

"Claude, stop!" Steve tore after her.

"No!" Claudia stopped abruptly, and sat down on the ground, unleashing a shrieking sob that chilled Steve to the bone. She was clawing at her hair with two shaking hands, and letting out horrible screams.

"Claudia!" He ran over to her, and she shrunk away from him, covering her head with her arms and whimpering.

"What's wrong?"

"No! No! Leave me alone!"

Steve called Artie on his Farnsworth.

"What is it?" Artie glared at Steve, annoyed, but then Claudia's shrieks came through the microphone. "What happened? What's wrong with her?"

"I don't know! I found her sitting on the floor and I knew something was wrong, but then she started running, and now she's in hysterics."

"I'll be there in a minute." Artie hung up.

The girl was curled up in a ball, whimpering over and over, "I'm not crazy. I'm not crazy. I'm not crazy."

"Claudia, it's me. It's Steve. Can you tell me what's wrong?" He approached her and put a hand on her shoulder.

The girl yelped, and reflexively punched him in the eye, scrambling up and hiding behind a shelf.

Steve shook off the punch, which began to swell immediately, and called, "Claude, can you hear me?" The redhead had quite a right hook.

"No! Please! Leave me alone!" her voice was unrecognizable, and Steve had no idea what to do. Suddenly, the redhead emerged from behind the shelf wielding an ax. The former ATF agent jumped back and took cover behind a shelf as the girl began swinging the weapon around. It was clear she was seeing things that Steve couldn't see.

Artie walked up behind Steve.

"Artie, she's swinging around a weapon! I don't know what's wrong with her, but she could hurt herself or us."

Artie sighed and pulled out his tesla.

"You're not actually going to tesla her, are you?" Steve was horrified.

"Not unless I have to." The man walked out from behind the shelf and slowly approached Claudia, his tesla raised.

"Hey there, kiddo."

Claudia's face changed slightly.

"P-professor?"

"Yeah, it's me. You're okay. You're safe," he murmured gently.

"What happened?"

"Joshua's safe too. Do you want to talk with him?"

"What? Yes!" She started walking toward him.

"Okay. But first you've got to put down that ax, alright?"

Claudia stared at the object in her hand, as if she didn't remember she was holding it.

"Wait," the girl said, face scrunched up in puzzlement. "This… this isn't real, is it?"

"Yes it is, Claudia. I'm real. I'm right here."

"No. No, you're not real. The doctor told me I've been having delusions. This isn't real. He told me I have to fight." The girl's shaky voice was rising in pitch.

"No Claudia, that's not true. I'm not a hallucination. I'm real, and I'm here."

"No you're not! No you're not!" The girl shrieked and swung the ax toward Artie, but froze as a bolt of electricity from the tesla hit her, and she crumpled to the ground, dropping the weapon.

"I'm sorry, Claudia," Artie said to the unconscious girl.

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**Please review and let me know your thoughts on my story!**


	2. Chapter 2

**I don't own Warehouse 13 or any of its characters, only this story, from which I am not making profit.**

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Claudia woke up with a pounding headache. She was laying on a couch in the Warehouse office. Artie was tapping away at one of the computers, and Steve was pacing nervously.

"What happened?"

"You're awake! How do you feel?"

"My head hurts."

"Yeah, it's an after effect of the-"

"So, how about some lunch," Steve cut Artie off.

"Steve, what happened?"

"You… uh, I don't know. You weren't acting like yourself."

"Was I the one who gave you the shiner?" She pointed to his black and swollen eye.

"Yeah. I think you were seeing... something that we couldn't see."

"Yeah, I remember that part. What I don't remember is being relocated to the couch."

"Well… we kind of had to… tesla you."

"I got tesla'd?! What the hell?"

"To be fair, I was the one who tesla'd you," Artie interjected. "You were swinging an ax at me."

Claudia bit her lip. "So you saw me all… psycho?"

"I wouldn't use the word psycho, but yeah," Steve replied. "Is that the first time that's happened?"

"Yes..."

"Claude."

"No." She looked down and picked at a hole in her jeans.

"Is it happening a lot?"

"Well, sort of. I guess it's a couple of times a week."

"So what do you see when this happens?" Artie had stopped typing and stared at her with worried eyes.

"I'll be back in one of my old foster homes, or in the psych ward, or on the streets of Minneapolis. And I'll run into… I don't know, different people; people I don't want to see. And it's like this paralyzing fear grabs onto me, and I can't figure out what's real and what's imaginary anymore."

"So it's like flashbacks?"

"Yeah."

"I'm so sorry this has been happening, but I wish you had told us sooner."

"I know…" Her eyes shifted nervously. "Steve, do you think I'm crazy?"

"What? No. No, I don't, Claudia.," he stated firmly.

"But I went completely mental on you, and went all ax-murderer on Artie!"

"Well, I think maybe you should talk to someone about this all."

"So you do think I'm crazy," she said in a hurt voice, nodding her head quickly.

"No, Claude, I just think it might be a good idea for you to not… have to deal with this on your own. Doesn't that sound reasonable?"

"No, yeah, of course," she replied, getting up from the couch and walking toward the door, "I completely understand. I mean, you wouldn't want some psycho like me walking around the Warehouse with all those artifacts and people I could hurt. I could kill someone. Just like I almost killed Artie."

"Claude-"

"I'm fine, Jinksy. Really. I just need to get out of here for a while, okay?" She left the Warehouse, started her car, and sped down the highway, allowing her emotions to wash over her.

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**Thanks for reading and please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**I don't own Warehouse 13 or any of its characters, nor am I making a profit from my story.**

**This one is just a short chapter. Because of Uni starting up, I may not be posting as often. You have been forewarned. Though honestly, writing is such a stress reliever that I'll probably continue to crank out the stories.**

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Steve finally found Claudia on the shoulder of the highway, sitting on the hood of her car, sipping on a bottle of something. He pulled over and approached her.

"Two PM is a little early for beer, isn't it?" He sat down on the car with her.

"It's creme soda, poopypants. Do you think I'm an idiot?"

"No, I don't. I think you are a smart, capable, beautiful young woman."

"Geez, Jinksy." She turned away to hide her flushed cheeks, still lacking the social graces to accept a compliment.

"Listen, I'm really sorry if I did something that upset you or implied that I think you're crazy or incapable."

"No, I get it. I really do. I think it's probably a good idea for me to go see someone about... all this."

"You do?"

"Yes. I'm just… scared."

"Because of your experience in the psych ward?"

"Mhm. I was treated like I was crazy, told I was crazy, and soon enough I began to believe I really was crazy. You can't possibly imagine what it's like to see things other people can't see, and be told they're delusions. You've never been medicated till you're a zombie, or electrocuted till you can't see straight in order to get the crazy out of you." Her voice had begun to fill with tears. "You've never been restrained in a private room with a doctor of ill-intentions, and- and-"

She broke down in sobs, and Steve held onto her tightly. He felt like something was burrowing into his chest. All he wanted was to make it all better. He wanted to act. He wanted to go out and kill or maim everyone who had hurt his best friend. But that wouldn't fix anything; wouldn't fix her. All he could do was sit there on the hood of her Prius, with the hot sun glaring down on them, on the shoulder of a highway in the middle of the South Dakota desert, and let her cry while he held her. It was absurd, and felt like the last thing he should be doing to help her. Yet there he sat. And for one reason or another, he knew this was exactly where Claudia needed him.

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**Thank you for reading, and please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own Warehouse 13 or any of its characters.**

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Claudia and Steve finally got home that afternoon, the female agent went straight to her room and didn't emerge again the rest of the night. Steve knew she needed time to process, and decided not to bother her, but at 2AM, when he heard her feet sticking slightly to the hardwood floor in the hallway, he wanted to make sure she was alright. By the time he had gotten out of bed and opened his door, she had already gone down the stairwell. Suddenly, loud music blasted from the lower level, and Steve made his way quickly down the stairs. He found Claudia in the kitchen, putting plates on the table, as Muse played loudly from the stereo.

"What are you doing?" He pressed the OFF button on the stereo and watched her slip around the table.

The girl didn't answer him. He caught a glimpse of her face as she turned to the silverware drawer and began picking up forks and knives. It didn't seem right. As Claudia turned to the table again and began setting the utensils down, she moved with precision, almost rotely. The awkward movements of his best friend were nowhere to be found in this strange new Claudia.

"Claude, hey," he said, gently taking her by the shoulders and turning her to face him. The redhead's eyes were glazed over, and her face held a blank expression.

"Are you... asleep?"

She didn't answer, but seemed to realize his presence as she squirmed out of his grasp. He wasn't sure what to do; he knew that waking a person who was sleepwalking wasn't always a grand idea, but also didn't want to leave her as she was.

Claudia had now moved to the fridge and was taking out a bottle of orange juice.

"Claudia, it's Steve. Can you stop for a minute?" She slid past him and moved toward the table, but when he placed a hand on her shoulder again, she froze. Suddenly, she threw down the glass orange juice bottle, and it shattered on the floor as she let out a blood-curdling scream.

In one swift movement, she pulled a knife from the knife-block sitting on the counter, and turned around, wielding the new-found weapon with an expert hand. Steve remembered somewhere in the back of his brain that Myka had taught Claudia how to handle various weapons when she had started going out on the field.

"Get away from me, Doctor Michener." Her voice was dangerous, her body now poised to attack.

"Claudia, it's me. It's Steve."

"Don't make me use this," she said, brandishing the knife.

"Please listen to me. You're dreaming. This isn't real." Steve realized about .25 milliseconds too late that this was exactly the wrong thing to say to the traumatized girl. Suddenly, despite their difference in stature, he found himself propelled back and against a cabinet, the kitchen knife less than a centimeter from his neck.

"Give me one good reason not to slit your throat," Claudia said in a chilling voice not her own.

"Claudia?" Myka's voice rang out from the other end of the kitchen.

The girl snapped her head around, and with her focus diverted for a moment, Steve had the time he needed to take action. In the blink of an eye, he grabbed her wrist, and moved so he was behind her, holding her arm and the knife in front of her. Twisting her wrist back and sideways slightly-not enough to damage anything, but enough to cause some pain- he tried to get her to drop her weapon.

"Ow, let go!"

"Drop the knife, Claude."

"No!"

He twisted her wrist further.

The girl cried out, looking back at him, when her eyes suddenly widened in recognition. "S-Steve? …..What the frak?" She stared at the knife for a moment before it fell from her hand and clattered to the floor. Steve let go of her arm, and the girl turned to face him. "Bloody hell! Oh my- I am so freaking sorry! I-" Claudia began backing up, and let out a small yelp as her feet crunched on the broken glass from the orange juice bottle.

"Claudia, stop!"

"I- I'm sorry!" She looked around for a moment, panic in her eyes, then darted up the stairs and into to her room, leaving a trail of bloody footprints from her cut-up feet. Myka and Pete were standing in the doorway to the kitchen, both looking slightly bewildered.

"You okay?" Myka moved into the kitchen, surveying the sticky mess and broken glass on the floor with her large, worried eyes.

"I'm fine. It's Claudia I'm worried about."

"Yeah, me too. Artie told us about what happened today," The brunette said as she began mopping up the mess with paper towels.

"I don't even know how to act around her, because I don't want her to feel crazy, but she also definitely needs some help."

"That's tough, man," Pete acknowledged, and Steve nodded, leaning against the counter.

"Hey, I think I'll go check on the old Claude-meister; make sure she's okay." Pete left the kitchen, following the bloody footprints up the stairs to Claudia's room.

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"I can't believe I did that. Holy crap, I can't believe I did that. What is wrong with me? I'm not crazy. I'm not crazy. I'm not crazy." Claudia was curled up on her bed, rocking back and forth, a cold sweat making her shiver. "I can't- can't- I'm not crazy…. not crazy.. not crazy..." She tore roughly through her hair with her hands, breathing heavily through clenched teeth. She could taste her tears in her mouth, and felt them rolling down her face and neck.

"Claude?" Pete's soft voice made its way through the door.

"Go away, Pete."

Of course, he took that as an invitation to walk right in. She tried to compose herself, but could do little to hide her red eyes, shaking hands, or bloody feet. Pete sat down on the bed next to her and didn't say anything. She knew he was waiting for her to say something, but the redhead stayed silent, afraid that she wouldn't be able to hold herself together if she spoke.

"Hey, I'll be right back," Pete said, leaving, and returned a few minutes later with a bucket of water, a washcloth, and a first-aid kit.

"What's that for?" Her voice was raw.

"Your feet. We can't just leave them like that."

"You're going to wash my feet?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, Miss Sassafrass, I am." At that, he pulled one of her feet from the bed and touched the bottom as gently as he could with the washcloth. Claudia bit back a yelp.

"Sorry." Pete continued to wash her feet, until the water in the bucket was dark red. Then, he got a tweezers out of the first aid kit and looked up. "Claude, we gotta get these pieces of glass out of your foot."

"Shouldn't a doctor do that, or something?"

"Nah. I got trained to handle this kind of stuff in the Marines."

"Really?"

"No. But I thought that would make you feel better. You wanna wait and let a doctor do it?"

"Yeah, that would probably be good."

"Okay. I'll just wipe em' off and bandage em' up." He carefully wiped and bandaged her feet, then helped her crawl under her covers, before he leaned in for a hug. She gratefully accepted it, and exhaled in something a bit too shaky to not be taken as crying. Pulling her in tighter, Pete continued to hold her as she began to drift off.

"I'm not crazy," she mumbled, half-asleep.

"I know you're not." He wanted to stay up and watch over her, but he knew they both needed their rest. Gently letting her down onto the bed, he pulled a the covers further over her and stared at her for a long moment. She looked so peaceful and relaxed; so different from the dangerous Claudia in the kitchen, or the broken Claudia whose feet he had bandaged up, or even the normal, quippy, but guarded Claudia. He hoped someday, sometime, she would look this way when she was awake; he hoped beyond all hope that sometime soon she could feel at peace.

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**Thanks for reading! I would love your feedback. I'm a bit stuck as to where to go next, so ideas would be lovely!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I don't own Warehouse 13 or its characters.**

**This chapter was honestly supposed to be fluffy, but it ended up... not so fluffy. Apologies.**

**Thank you to dragonchrysalis for the idea for this chapter!**

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A soft knock on the door awoke Claudia the next morning. She answered with a muffled groan, and Dr. Calder walked in.

"Hello, Claudia."

"Hey, Vanessa. Uh… why are you here?" Her heart began beating rapidly. Had one of the other agents called her in about the happenings of the day before?

"Pete called and said you got some glass stuck in your foot and needed me to remove it."

"Yes, yep I do." She slipped her feet out from under the covers and Vanessa unwrapped the bandages.

"My goodness, you certainly did imbed some glass in there. How did you manage that?"

"Apparently, I was sleepwalking and I broke a bottle, then stepped on it."

"I see." The doctor put on a pair of gloves, and pulled a few things out of her medical bag. "Claudia, this is going to hurt quite a bit."

"Okay..." The girl gripped her comforter as Vanessa began to work on her first foot. Almost immediately after the doctor began to pull out the first shard of glass, Claudia let out a whimper of pain. She clamped her hands over her mouth quickly.

"You okay?"

"No, yeah. Of course," the redhead mumbled shakily through her fingers.

"Okay. Let me know when you need a break."

The doctor proceeded to pull out piece after painful piece of glass, until Claudia couldn't hold up to it anymore.

"Okay, break time," she choked out.

"Alright." The doctor put down her tweezers and got up. "So Claudia, I hear yesterday was somewhat eventful."

"Huh, eventful… not sure what you mean by that," Claudia muttered avoidantly.

"Well, I heard you accidentally almost killed two of your friends."

"Who told you that?"

"Artie is just concerned for your well-being, as am I."

"Yeah, well, I'm doing just fine, thanks."

"Claudia, It's been requested by the regents that you talk with a psychiatrist."

"Wait, the regents are involved now? What if I don't want to talk to a shrink?" The teenager stared at the doctor fiercely.

"Then you will be put on probation from work until you chose to do so."

"They won't let me go to the Warehouse?"

"I'm afraid not."

"But I'm the future caretaker! That building is like my baby! And my parent… But anyway, what gives them the right to tell me I can't work?"

"That is their job, Claudia. We all just want what is best for you."

"What's best for me is not to be separated from the Warehouse."

"I agree. Which is why you should talk with a psychiatrist. May I ask why you don't want to?"

"You've seen my medical records, Vanessa. You know I was in a psych ward for a while. And it wasn't exactly a great experience."

"Ah, I see." The woman was quiet for a long moment. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"What? No, no that's okay. I mean I'm fine- I mean, you don't need to. I guess if you wanted to, you could, but you really don't have to. I don't really _need_ someone to-"

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, that'd be good."

"Okay, Claudia." Vanessa smiled gently at the redhead. She knew under her tough exterior, she was just a terrified teenager, desperately grasping for something or someone to tell her she wasn't crazy.

"Thanks."

"No problem. And Claudia?"

"Yeah?"

"It's going to be okay."

"Okay."

After an hour and a half, the doctor finally finished picking the glass out of the girl's feet, and bandaged them carefully. Claudia, whose nerves were frazzled after the painstaking process, immediately fell asleep, and Vanessa stepped out of her room. Downstairs, she found Artie waiting in the kitchen.

"How is she?"

"Exhausted and scared. But I convinced her to go see someone."

"How did you manage that?"

"I offered to go with her."

"When will you go?"

"I'll give her a day or two for the sake of her feet."

"Vanessa, what are we supposed to do if she gets dangerous again before that?"

"You're going to have to either tesla or tranquilizer her."

"I see." Artie put his head in his hands.

"Here," Dr. Calder said, reaching into her bag and pulling out a capped syringe, "This is a bit less violent than a tesla. You can inject it pretty much anywhere, and it will work within a few seconds."

"Vanessa, using a tesla on Claudia the other day was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do."

"I know, Artie. But it was the right thing to do. If Claudia is threatening another agent, you need to tranquilize her."

Artie sighed and took the capped syringe from Dr. Calder, put it into his bag.

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**Well, that probably wasn't my best writing ever, but whatever. What did you think? **


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I don't own Warehouse 13 or its characters and am not making profit from this story. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Trigger Warning for SH and Suicide. Please don't read this if it will trigger you!**

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Later that day, Claudia emerged from her room for food. She had held out as long as possible to avoid the imminent awkwardness, but eventually her stomach won out. As she hobbled her way down the stairs and to the kitchen, feet tender, she hoped not to see anyone.

"Hey Claude," said Steve tentatively.

"Oh, hi." She stared at her feet. "Hey listen, I'm really sorry about last night."

"It's okay. It's not your fault."

"Maybe… Maybe it's something artifacty," she offered, trying to put forward some explanation other than her own insanity.

"Yeah, it could be."

"Do you think you could do some checking for me? I'm… uh, not allowed in the Warehouse right now."

"Of course I can, Claude."

"Thanks," the redhead said, limping toward the pantry to find something to eat.

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The two days preceding Claudia holding Steve at knife-point and Artie at ax-point were awkward for everyone. No one really knew what to say, and Claudia wouldn't make eye contact with anyone. Nothing eventful took place until the night before the teen was to go to the Psychiatrist with Dr. Calder. Myka was walking down the hallway to the bathroom when she heard Claudia's shriek. Running to the redhead's room, she didn't stop to knock as she burst in.

"Claudia, what's wrong?"

The girl was curled up in a corner of her room, mumbling incoherently, and Myka noticed there was blood on her arm.

"What happened?" The older agent kneeled down beside the cowering teenager.

"Please, please leave me alone, Mr. Peterson."

"No, Claudia, it's me. It's Myka. I'm right here."

"No, no," she murmured slowly, shaking her head.

"Honey, it's okay."

"No!" The girl stood quickly, and crossed the room to her bookshelf. Grabbing the back with both hands, she pushed it over. The sound of it toppling to the ground, along with the books, picture frames, and random gadgets following it, was deafening compared to the quiet of the night.

"Claudia, stop it! Look at me!"

The girl swept everything off her dresser-top, then with all her might, pushed the dresser over as well. The sound of the mirror shattering sent Pete and Steve rushing into the room.

"I don't know what to do!" Myka was frantic.

Claudia had gone to her bedside table, and was rummaging through the drawer, tossing things out of it haphazardly. Soon, she had pulled out a bottle of pills.

"I'm done with this! I'm done," the girl yelled, as she started opening the bottle.

"Claudia!" Steve tackled the small agent, throwing the bottle from her hand and pinning her down.

"Let me go! Let me go!" The redhead was in hysterics. "Just let me do it! Just let me end it. It's what everyone wants," she sobbed.

"No it's not, Claude. That's not what anyone wants." Steve's heart felt like lead, seeing his best friend hurting so much. Just then, Artie came in, face grave. Pushing past Pete and Myka, he made his way to kneel next to Claudia, who Steve was still holding down for her own protection.

"Let me go!" The girl was struggling violently against Steve.

"Claudia?" Artie's voice was soft and pained, and immediately the girl's screams stopped, as she stared up at him, looking disoriented and wild.

"Professor, make them stop! Make it stop. Let me…. I want to- I….." Her fear and her smallness hit Artie in the gut with as much force as a punch.

"Okay. Okay, Claudia. I'll make it stop. But you have to calm down, okay? Just calm down." The man looked through his small spectacles at the girl's arm, smeared with blood, and at the bottle of pills Claudia had tried to ingest only a few moments ago.

"Okay." The girl looked up at him with her large, lost eyes, and her breathing slowed.

"Okay. Can you tell me what you're seeing right now?"

"What?" The girl looked around for a moment. No…. It… it happened again, didn't it, Artie?"

"Yeah."

"Crap… Who did I try to hurt this time?"

"Yourself, by the looks of it," the older agent said, grimacing as he looked at the girl's bloody arm.

She followed his gaze. "Oh… frak. Uh, Jinksy, mind letting me go?"

Steve had forgotten he was still restraining Claudia, and quickly let her go.

"I'm… sorry… Um, yeah…" The girl got up and hurried away to the bathroom, leaving the other agents to exchange worried glances and awkward silence. No one knew how much of what had occurred was the flashbacks, or whatever Claudia was seeing, and how much was how she was actually feeling.

Later, when each had returned to his or her own room, Myka thought she could hear Claudia murmuring over and over, "I'm not crazy. I'm not crazy." Steve checked on Claudia three times that night to make sure she was okay.

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The next morning, when Vanessa came to pick up Claudia, the girl was still reluctant to go.

"You know, my feet still really hurt. I probably shouldn't walk on them."

"I'm sure you will be alright, Claudia."

"I just remembered, I have some really urgent… business… stuff to attend to."

"I think it can wait."

"But Vanessa-"

"Claudia, it's okay. I'm coming with you, remember? I won't let them do anything without your consent."

"Okay."

In the end, Dr. Calder nearly had to drag the scared teen to the car, and when they pulled into the parking lot of an office building, Claudia actually began to shake.

"You ready to go in?"

"Uh yeah. Sure. I guess…"

In the waiting room, the girl was fidgeting nervously, ripping at her jeans, zipping and unzipping her sweatshirt, and twirling her hair. When a secretary finally called her name, she jumped about a foot in the air.

"Yeah, that's uh… that's me."

Claudia clutched Vanessa's hand tightly as they were escorted to the psychiatrist's office.

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**I know. Hopefully next time it will be a bit less depressing and intense. Unless you guys like depressing and intense? Let me know. Thanks for reading.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hello lovely readers! So sorry for the wait. Uni has begun and made writing quite difficult. In addition, I've contracted a beastly head cold. I'll stop making excuses and give you the story. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Warehouse 13 or any of its characters, nor am I making profit from this.**

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Claudia's psychiatrist was an old, hunched woman with ebony skin and a thick french accent.

"I'll be honest with you, Claudia. Typically, when someone is becoming a danger to themselves and others, we ask that they check themselves into the psychiatric ward while we start to work on the symptoms."

Stiffening at the thought of being in a psych ward again, Claudia asked, "Are you going to make me do that?"

"I will not force you do it, but I would strongly recommend it from a safety standpoint. You said yourself that you have put your loved ones and your own life in danger in the last few days. Why take the risk?"

"I'm just really, really not a fan of psych wards."

"Why is that?"

"Bad experience." Claudia was staring at the floor and subconsciously picking at her cuticles.

"I see. Well, you have two options. You may check yourself in today, or you can return home. If you do the latter, you must know it is against my suggestion."

"Can I think about it for a minute?"

"Yes, of course."

"So what's... What's my problem? I mean, am I just crazy?" This was the moment of truth and the redhead was unsure whether she really wanted an answer. She felt breathless and her whole body was tense.

"No, you are not. I believe you are suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Considering the amount of trauma you've experienced and the flashbacks, that is my diagnosis."

A huge wave of relief flooded over the girl. Sure, this was a terrible disorder. But she wasn't crazy. She wasn't crazy!

"Huh. Yeah, I guess that makes sense." She almost cracked a smile. There was a diagnosis. This doctor knew what was wrong with her, and probably knew what to do about it.

The doctor nodded. "Typically with this disorder, we approach the problem with therapy and medication. I see from your chart you are familiar with many forms of psychiatric drugs?"

"Yep. Anti-depressants, anti-psychotics, tranquilizers…. the works."

"Okay. I am going to prescribe for you 50 mg of fluozetine and 2 mg lorazepam tablets as needed." The psychiatrist discussed these two drugs with Vanessa and Claudia for a few minutes, then got up. "I'll go print that prescription for you, and then I will need to know if you are willing to check yourself in."

"Vanessa, I don't know if I can do this. What do you think?"

"I will support you either way, Claudia."

"Okay. Um… I guess… I guess I'll check myself in."

"Okay. I know this is scary, but I am so proud of you. And it's going to be okay."

"Thanks."

They checked Claudia in and brought her up to the locked ward. As an orderly unlocked the door to let them in, Claudia stopped short and turned to Vanessa, eyes darting around in panic. A noose of fear was pulling tighter and tighter around her neck until she thought she would choke. The air felt stale and heavy.

"I-I can't do this," she stammered. "I can't. I can't! I can't do this, Vanessa." Her hands were shaking and Vanessa grabbed one of them and squeezed it comfortingly.

"It's okay, Claudia. You'll be okay. This isn't like the other places you've been. The doctors here don't have bad intentions. They're not going to electrocute you or yell at you, or anything else. They want you to be comfortable and calm. And I'll stay with you as long as I can. You can do this. I believe in you."

"Okay," she responded shakily and walked unsteadily forward. The orderly brought them to a room in the middle of the hall, knocked on the door, then opened it and let the two women inside.

"This is Amber. She'll be your roommate," the orderly said, indicating a terribly skinny girl with dark hair. She had a tube going into her nose, fastened to her face by a piece of tape. Amber opened her eyes slightly and nodded in Claudia's direction.

"Hey Claudia, I need to leave now in order to grab your things from the B&B and be back before visiting hours are over. Will you be okay?"

She nodded, not saying anything. She was so very afraid that if she opened her mouth, she would lose it. In fact, she was certain she would. So she just nodded until Vanessa left. Laying down on the bed, she smashed her face into the pillow and tried not to think too hard.

"What are you in for?" The dark-haired girl asked from the other bed.

Claudia lifted her pillow and answered in a cracking voice, "I tried to kill two of my best friends and then myself."

"Oh."

"You?"

"People want me fat."

"Oh."

They sat in a silence that was surprisingly not awkward. Amber pulled a book from the nightstand next to her bed and began to read, and for two hours the only sound in the room was the flipping of pages every few minutes. And it was surprisingly okay. For some strange reason the room, with a big picture window and sun streaming in, and the quiet, and the tiny girl in the bed opposite, and the flipping of book pages made everything okay, even though it wasn't. Even though Claudia was sitting on a hospital bed in a psych ward, for some odd reason, she knew everything would be okay.

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**Thanks for reading and please review! **


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